


Revelations

by snack_size



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint is Deaf, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Relationship Beginnings, Science Boyfriends, Team Bonding, Thor discovers donut holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <i>He turned and grimaced at Nat. “Sorry,” he said, voice soft. “The new aids from SHIELD aren’t fitting right so I took them out.” He shrugged, and looked self-conscious - a look that Tony had never expected to see on the archer.</i></p><p> The Team learns that Clint is deaf, and uses hearing aids - and another major revelation looms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony was pleased - despite the fact that each had their own suite of rooms, his teammates, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, actually made use of the open plan communal space. Tony had hoped for this, because he wanted and/or needed to get a feel for them - literally, in one particular case - seeing as how he had invited them to live in his home and agreed to help them save the world. 

Each, no doubt, had their own reasons - the kitchen was fully stocked, the kitchen had _the_ coffee machine, the bar had all of the good booze in it, the television screen was the largest, they legitimately enjoyed the company of others...the later, of course, was Steve Rogers. He probably deserved some credit - even though Tony had been the one to design the space - since, when not destroying punching bags, he took to one of the couches in the living room. 

At first he sketched, alone. But then by sheer force of will - in this case, his earnest, puppy-like desire to get to know people and be friends - he drew them in on their first Saturday together. Observing him via JARVIS, as he sat and smiled and looked pleasant and waited for everyone to come, Tony scrawled himself a note to check and see if the Captain emitted detectable sincerity patterns.

Thor came first, and Steve showed him how to play Mario Kart. That was enough for Tony to join in- _launch that shell, Captain, and you shall come to regret it!_ Steve even showed he was capable of humor and heckling - _What? Having trouble without your hammer?_

Clint came after this and proceeded to destroy all of them - _lots of downtime on the Helicarrier,_ said with a shrug - and Tony was surprised to find that the sullen, brooding assassin thing had largely been a function of circumstance and was not, in fact, a permanent personality. This was good, since Natasha really filled that quota.

Bruce crept in next, and then Natasha, and even she wasn’t impervious to the joys of Mario Kart - _I will only play if you don’t make me be the Princess,_ she said. Booze got involved at some point, and pizza, and while everyone was still careful with each other and did their best to put on a veneer of sociability, it was still a very good evening and Tony stumbled into bed thinking, _see, Pepper, this just might work. Not a bad idea at all._

Then he sighed, because Pepper, and curled around one of his large pillows - berating himself, because, really? It had been almost a month. And he was Tony Stark.

On Sunday he went into the kitchen to get some coffee and was surprised to find Clint making waffles. “We have a waffle iron?” Tony said, and then grinned when Clint turned and was wearing an apron - which had to be his own, since it said _Fuck the Chef._

“I made sure of it,” Clint said, and then slapped at Tony’s hand. “No bacon until everyone gets here.”

“But, mom-”

“No buts,” Clint replied. “Go wake them up if you’re so hungry.” Tony pondered this for a moment - Bruce had managed a little electrical prod just fine, surely jumping on him when he was sleeping wouldn’t be...although, if he was really asleep...

“JARVIS, let everyone know - in an obnoxious manner, if needed - that Master Barton is cooking breakfast and it would be rude for them to miss it,” Tony said, and then he went over to the coffee maker and began brewing his normal triple espresso latte.

“Oh, I was hoping for waffles,” Natasha said. She was wearing leggings and a very large t-shirt - Clint’s? Though it had Cyrillic on it, and it didn’t matter, because Tony had never thought he would see Natasha in loungewear. He added this to his list of proof, for when Pepper called to ask how things were going, that he had been right.

“I was not aware that you were experienced in the art of meal craft,” Thor said, appearing next, with Steve close behind - as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as expected.

“I just finished training!” Steve said, and Tony nodded at him before turning to roll his eyes at Natasha, who just shrugged.

“Clint is an excellent cook,” Natasha said, taking Tony’s place at the coffee machine. “Does this make regular coffee, Stark?”

“Please, Tony,” he said. “And what do you want regular coffee for when it can make you-”

“I want black coffee.” Was it reasonable for her to scare him more than the Hulk? Tony pressed the appropriate button and smiled at her.

“I would also like some coffee,” Thor said, spreading himself out at the table. “I was introduced to it by the Lady Jane’s companion the Lady Darcy, and it was a most wondrous drink.” 

Tony looked around the room - where was Bruce? Because he would share Tony’s look of concern and possible abject fear at the idea of a caffeinated god of thunder. “JARVIS, where is Dr. Banner?”

“On his way, sir,” JARVIS replied, as Natasha handed a cup of coffee to Thor and then set about brewing another. Clint was humming something as he stacked another waffle on a platter and then returned it to the oven to keep the waffles warm. Tony settled back at his chair - at the head of the table, since he owned the damn place - and smiled. _Recipe for disaster,_ Pepper said. _I don’t even want to think of the insurance premiums..._ Tony sighed, and pushed it out of his head. Waffles.

* * * 

He was busy much of the week - a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist has little time for rest, unlike certain other members of the team who were solely charged with _getting up to speed on the twenty-first century._

There was still time for two movies in the evening and for taking Bruce out to a little Egyptian place he knew about in Queens because - well, Bruce. Unfortunately, though, Bruce didn’t seem to be familiar enough with New York to understand that this was a big thing - that Tony was demonstrating he was worth going to Queens for. Which, fine, wasn’t like he had been on the run from the U.S. Military-Industrial Complex for the past five years or whatever. Tony just made a mental note - _be more direct in seduction effort re: Banner. Perhaps buy wee particle accelerator._ If they did, in fact, come in wee.

Tony was looking forward to the weekend - and felt a little silly about it, since he was a grown man and it wasn’t like this was the first time that he had friends. It was just nice, after everything - Stark Expo, nearly dying, nearly dying again - to have a house full of people. It made him understand why some people had a desire to reproduce, but not enough that he wanted to give it a try anytime soon. 

On Saturday morning, he and Bruce had been playing chess and drinking Bloody Marys, Natasha was reading some thick book, and Steve was showing Thor the _Wizard of Oz_ when Clint walked in and made for the coffee machine. 

“Ugh, Clint?” Bruce said, while Tony pondered his move - of course Bruce was ridiculously good at chess, and Tony hadn’t been challenged by a game in awhile. “You’ve got something...I think it’s blood? Coming out of your ear?” 

Clint said nothing, and Bruce frowned slightly and shrugged his shoulders, as though he was used to this - which, _not cool,_ Tony thought. No one should ignore Bruce. “Dick,” Tony said, and this got Steve’s attention, and he looked up and frowned.

“Tony, it’s fine,” Bruce said. 

“One, no, it’s not fine to be ignored especially when, two, you’re pointing out that someone is bleeding from a rather important orifice,” Tony said, as he attempted to discern whether moving his bishop was a very good or very bad move - so many chess moves seemed to walk that fine line. He glanced over at Clint, who was still pretending to be oblivious and who did, indeed, have a line of blood trickling out of his ear.

“Flying monkeys!” Thor boomed, so that everyone turned to look at him. He clapped Steve on the shoulder hard enough for Steve to wince. “I now - what did you say, Captain? Understand that reference.” 

No, Tony realized, not everyone turned to look at Thor - Clint had his head down and was completely ignoring them. Tony almost stood, wondering if the archer had hit his head and just hadn’t noticed - happened to the best of us - but then saw Natasha set her book down and walk to the other side of the serving bar and into the kitchen. 

Bruce was watching now, as well, and Clint was completely oblivious to Natasha approaching from behind him. Bruce glanced at Tony, brow furrowed, as they watched Clint jolt upwards when Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. 

He turned and grimaced at Nat. “Sorry,” he said, voice soft. “The new aids from SHIELD aren’t fitting right so I took them out.” He shrugged, and looked self-conscious - a look that Tony had never expected to see on the archer.

Natasha put a hand on his cheek and looked him right in the eye. “Your ear is bleeding,” she said. 

“Oh,” Clint said. 

“Aids?” Tony asked.

“Hearing aids?” Bruce asked.

“What?” said Steve, and JARVIS, ever alert and observant, muted the film. 

“Is something amiss?” Thor asked.

“Clint,” Natasha said, and then she kissed him lightly on the lips - _Yes!_ Tony thought, and raised his eyebrows in triumph at Bruce. _Totally called that._

Clint grimaced, and then turned to face all of them. “So, on this week’s very special episode...”


	2. Chapter 2

He had been stupid to think he was actually going to get the segue, and was a little relieved that he couldn’t hear what was making up the garbled cacophony of Avengers’ voices. Anytime this happened, Clint just thought back to Anchorman - _loud noises! Loud noises!_ Of course, it was more apt when Thor was around. He would have tried to pay better attention, but Bruce insisted on cleaning the blood off of his ear and Natasha decided it would be a good idea to get more Bloody Mary’s. 

When they were both done, she came over and squeezed his hand. He picked up his coffee and moved over to the couch. Closer, and he could pick out a little of it. Of course, by this point, all the initial questions had been shouted at him and then all of the reasonable members of the group had realized that he couldn’t hear them, and now Steve was saying something to Bruce and Tony was talking to Thor - presumably using some sort of over technical explanation for why Clint seemed capable of hearing most other times. 

“A tiny form of sorcery?” Thor asked. Clint shook his head at Natasha. 

_You thought you could just slip in and out?_ she signed.

 _Assassin!_ he signed back. She grinned, and pointed at Tony. Clint was able to catch the tail end of it, but just barely - not only did he speak fast, but he managed to do so without really moving his lips that much. As far as Clint was able to determine - he didn’t want to spend an inordinate amount of time staring at Tony Stark’s mouth, out of fear the other man might get the wrong idea - it was the rampant sarcasm that required Tony not give too much away with actual...expression. 

“-don’t need a secret code!” Tony said. 

“It’s not secret,” Clint said. “It’s ASL.” Everyone turned towards him, surprised. “I’m mostly deaf,” he said. “I can still talk.” The responses were predictable - Steve looked down, feeling shame, Tony rolled his eyes, Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony, and Thor furrowed his brow. 

“Do you want to..?” Bruce asked. Clint shrugged - not really, but then, Natasha was right. He had been courting disaster by not putting the aids in. They’d been annoying him all week, though, and there was part of him - OK, most of him, most of the time - that thought, _fuck it_ , because it was going to come out sooner or later and it was better for it to be over Bloody Mary’s on a Saturday morning then in the middle of some rampaging Lovecraftian horror.

“I was born with it,” he said. “There’s some technical term, but...” he shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that, Stark, just hack into my file and figure it out. It’s degenerative, but SHIELD’s got a bang up health insurance plan, so they’ve been able to stop it for now. I can hear about 10% in my right and 15% in my left - so I wear hearing aids almost all of the time, but the new ones they sent are shit.” He waved at the ear that had been trickling some blood out of it.

“So you use sign language?” Steve asked.

“And I read lips,” he said. “So, uhm, one at a time? And - it’s really not a big deal-”

“It’s something we should have known about,” Steve said. 

_Self-righteous shit,_ Clint signed.

“I feel that wasn’t polite,” Steve said. Clint cocked his head as if he had no idea why Steve should act offended.

“It’s not like all of SHIELD knows,” Clint said. “It’s highly classified. Might be above your pay grade.” Steve furrowed his brow at this. 

“And with the use of these magical hearing aids-” Thor began.

“They’re not magic,” Tony interjected. Thor crossed his arms.

"They provide hearing to those who would otherwise not have it," Thor said. "What would you call that?" He shook his head, and before Tony could respond, he turned to Clint. “With the use of these aids, you are able to hear as one would normally?” Thor finished.

Clint nodded. “Sometimes better, depending. I usually don’t have issues but I just got tested again because of...” he trailed off, pursing his lips. “And the old ones were...ugh, old?” 

“No one else thinks this could be a liability?” Steve asked.

“I wear glasses,” Bruce said. “Couldn’t see any scientific data without them. If they broke, and you needed me to...” Clint smiled at him, and then looked over at Steve, who considered this. 

“I meant us not knowing,” Steve said. “Goodness, I’m not - we should know each other’s strengths and...not strengths.” 

_I feel bad?_ Clint signed. 

_Still self-righteous. Maybe not the shit part,_ Natasha signed in reply.

“So you learned ASL for Barton?” Tony said. Natasha gave him one of her more condescending eyebrow arches - Clint had, thus far, categorized thirty-seven separate and distinct eyebrow arches and their meanings. “I thought love was for children.” 

Natasha pursed her lips. 

“Oh, and that!” Steve said. “You could have said something, you know...we’re-”

“You required confirmation of their bond?” Thor asked. He was Clint’s favorite, other than Natasha. 

“I’m a private person,” Natasha said, simultaneously signing for him since he couldn’t see her.

“You just have the aids that fit inside the ear canal?” Bruce asked. 

“For now - there’s a clunky pair, with the over-the-ear, on order right now-”

“I wonder-” Bruce began, and then looked at Tony and began to rattle off what had to be _science!_ at him - Bruce was even more difficult to read than Tony, normally, since he tended towards mumbling, muttering, and other similar self-deprecating ways of speaking, and Clint was basically lost once he started with a particularized vocabulary.

Natasha tapped him gently on the arm and indicated he should look at Steve. “I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean...”

“It’s fine, I understand,” Clint said, and he did, he supposed - Steve sometimes did not translate well to 2012. “But really-”

“Well, if SHIELD doesn’t think it’s a problem, I don’t know why I should,” Steve said. Clint had to blink twice to digest this - for a moment, he was fairly certain that Steve was being sarcastic, but then he reminded himself that Steve was incapable of it. Part of his original programming, no doubt amplified by the serum.

“You have performed more than ably thus far,” Thor said. “Though I am sorry to hear of your difficulties. I hope they were not exacerbated by my brother.”

Clint glanced down, and shook his head - he hadn’t even told Natasha about that, and now certainly wasn’t the time. In the Helicarrier, he had suggested that she must have knocked the aids out during her cognitive recalibration, and she had nodded and helped him put in his secondary pair.

He had tried not to think about it, since then - the realization, as they drove off in the Jeep, that the hearing aids had stopped working and that he could hear. _You seem surprised,_ Loki said, as they established their command center. _You have heart, Agent Barton, but I have no use for such mortal faults and failings...you are such fragile creatures, aren’t you?_ Clint shuddered, slightly.

“Clint?” Thor asked, loud enough that Clint shook himself out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, I-”

“No, I understand - it is difficult for you to think of that time.” 

_Drink some booze,_ Natasha signed, pushing a cup of Bloody Mary his way. He nodded his head at her and smiled, relieved. _Stark and Banner are a little too excited by this._

_Stark gets excited whenever he can invent something for real people and experiment on them,_ Clint signed back, and he caught Tony’s eye as he finished moving his hand. He wondered how long they would have - factoring in the fact that Tony now seemed determine to reinvent his hearing aids - before Stark figured out enough ASL they wouldn’t be able to talk about him while he was present. 

Best to use these last few days to the fullest, it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3

“Can I take a look at the offending technology?” Tony asked.

“They’re all I’ve got for the weekend,” Clint said. 

“Well, you’ve explained the situation - I don’t think anyone has an issue, right? Bruce and I can take a look at them...for science! And you, of course. For friendship!” Clint arched an eyebrow at this, and Tony grinned back at him. He did consider Clint a friend, he supposed - they had saved the world together, so that added a lot to intimacy, bypassing the need for discussions over coffee and going out for drinks. Though, he should invite Clint out for drinks. Clint would be fun at a bar, and they could hustle people at darts. Probably also pool.

“If these aids are causing you injury,” Thor said, “then I will be happy to do what is necessary for you to be comfortable.” Steve nodded, and Natasha smiled at Clint. 

“OK, sure,” he said. “You can fiddle with them, if you want...” 

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you’re attached to them,” Tony replied.

“Were you trying to make a joke?” Bruce asked, and Tony furrowed his brow - just part of the back and forth that had been developing between the two of them, which was great, because this was a huge improvement over the Bruce Banner that Tony had met on the Helicarrier. Well, improvement was probably the wrong word, since he had liked him instantly- who was kidding? He had fallen for him like a thirteen year-old falls for the varsity quarterback. He was just more Bruce, more comfortable, and it made Tony happy to have facilitated this. 

“Do you want to poke around with the hearing aids, or not?” Tony asked.

“Engineering - not my strong point,” Bruce replied.

“You taught yourself chemical emulsion in an evening to help with-” Bruce shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as Tony said this, then interrupted.

“Sure,” he said. “After all, I can’t say no to... _science._ ” He glanced over at Clint, a little embarrassed. “Or...friendship.” 

“Cool, whatever,” Clint said, standing to go and get the offending articles. Tony stood, and nudged Bruce. “You’re going to follow me..?”

“Haven’t seen your room since you moved in,” Tony said. “Probably should check and make sure it’s compliant with the building insurance, building codes, you know, like a good landlord.” Clint signed something to Natasha, and she grinned and signed something back. Tony narrowed his eyes - he wondered how long it was going to take him to pick up ASL. Of course, it would be expeditious to start with all of the swear words, sexual expressions and innuendos, and insults. That would probably cover a good half of what the two of them said to one another.

“OK, come on,” Clint said, and Natasha stood and took his side, with Tony and Bruce trailing behind. Tony had put Clint’s room on the bottom floor of the Avenger’s space so that he would be able to access the still under construction archery range at odd hours. His SHIELD file detailed a myriad number of extracurricular exploits that had made Tony decide that Clint Barton needed to be his new friend, if only so that he could find out what the Windex Incident was - even with JARVIS, Tony had only been able to find reams of paper with most of the words blacked out.

“Are you settling in alright?” Tony asked, awkwardly, and watched as Natasha signed at Clint.

“Yes, thank you,” Clint said, voice sort of tight - Tony got it, he wasn’t the sort to be...well, Steve, about things. And Tony appreciated that about him.

Clint opened the door to his suite, and Tony pressed his lips together. It was a lot more...mundane than he had been anticipating. Tony had the entire thing furnished with nice, but bland items, in the hopes that it would inspire his teammates to personalize with their own items. There were a few concert posters, neatly mounted, on the walls, from bands that Tony didn’t recognize. The couch had a sweatshirt blanket on it. Tony grinned at the little Legolas figure he saw on Clint’s side table.

“Huh,” Tony said.

“What, were you expecting a nest or something? Urban legend - well, Helicarrier legend,” Clint said, walking into the bathroom. 

“It happened once,” Natasha said, when the doors closed, and there was a sly look on her face. Tony liked this, until he realized that if she was willing to go subversive on Clint - recently revealed to be, in the very least, her friend and fuck buddy - then she would be more than willing- “He got whacked on the head but we didn’t know about it until he built a nest out of blankets and sweatshirts-” she stopped, as Clint emerged. He was shaking his head, having guessed that Natasha had sold him out. 

“I had a concussion,” he said, “we’re all known to do stupid shit when we’re concussed - or dying. Or so I’ve heard.” He grinned at Tony, and Tony grinned back at him.

“You know what? Try and tell me that you haven’t ever wanted to eat a donut while sitting in a giant donut.” 

“Fair enough,” Clint said, and he handed Tony a plastic box that presumably contained the hearing aids. Tony opened it up and looked at them - he didn’t know too much about hearing aid technology, but these looked fairly advanced. Slender and easy to slide in and out. 

“Are you opposed to an external device?” Tony asked, passing them over to Bruce, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Uhm...my only concern is in the field - it establishes a weakness, and when they’re external there’s more potential for them to get injured.” Tony nodded. “Anyway, I would say, thanks for looking into this - but I know you just want to make something amazing and have bragging rights for it. And blow something up.” 

“Really?” Tony asked. “I mentioned friendship! I like to help - I let all of you...you’re basically squatters. I could have made a chore chart, or made you do community service - working customer service-”

“I can think of someone who would be quite skilled at that,” Bruce said. Tony turned - he was so dry, almost brittle, it was amazing. Much less obvious than Tony’s, but it was fine, Tony liked having to work for it. He’d certainly work for a lot, with Bruce - and he had to stop himself, or he was going to go off on a tangent that would eventually result in something embarrassing happening in his pants.

“Are we at the point where we can make Hulk jokes?” Clint asked. “I mean, mostly, I would be saying things in a Hulk voice.” 

“Really? You’ve heard him talk? He’s not very verbal,” Bruce said. 

“No, I wouldn’t call him verbal,” Clint replied. “But yes, he does say things. Generally hilarious things. Hulk as a customer service representative would be something I would pay good money to see. Also Natasha.” 

“I would commit suicide by swallowing my own tongue,” Natasha said. “And it would all be on your head, Stark. If you want rent-”

“That’s not the point,” Tony said. “Sure, my own curiosity is fueling - but I do want to help. We’re buddies! Bros! And, besides, I have empathy here - I know what it’s like to rely on a piece of technology-” Three sets of eyes looked at Tony’s chest. He couldn’t help but think, _that’s right, bitches._ Everyone forgot about it, even as it glowed through his well-worn band t-shirts. Or they forgot the implications.

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” Clint said. “I’m really going to do my best to remember that you are a sensitive, caring person and-” Tony hoped it wasn’t inappropriate for him to sling his arm around Clint. The other man startled, slightly, but then seemed to relax under the touch. Tony felt...excited? It was like making friends at freshman orientation - or, he presumed that was what it was like. Despite the Stark name, not too many MIT freshman had any interest in befriending him - they were either normal aged college students who didn’t need a fourteen year-old tagging around or they were other super-geniuses, except the awful kind who were raised by parents who made them memorize flash cards at the age of three and frothed at the mouth when someone attempted to engage in normal human interaction with them. Anyway, he imagined that what it was like was meeting people, and thinking, _it’s going to be awesome when I fuck his brains out!_ \- Bruce - and _we’re going to do lots of awesome things together_ \- Barton, and also Bruce. To be fair, Bruce could probably fulfill all his needs.

“Right,” Tony said, sensing that he had exceeded Clint’s limit for touching today - or, at least, touching tony. “Let’s go do some science, Bruce.” 

“Well, I can’t say no to that,” Bruce said, and he followed after Tony, leaving Clint and Natasha to Clint’s room. “Huh,” Bruce said, once the door closed.

“Hmm?” Tony asked, as they walked towards the elevator.

“I don’t know - I guess I’m a little surprised that SHIELD would have an operative in the field who-”

“You’ll find, I think, that shady government organizations are willing to make exceptions for the, well, exceptional,” Tony said, and then sighed when he saw the look - anger, irritation, sadness, and something a little darker - that crossed Bruce’s face. “Well, when they’re not headed by megalomaniacs with ridiculous vendettas.”

“Ah,” Bruce said. “That’s an important distinction, I think.”


	4. Chapter 4

This was not new. Clint often had his hearing aids out when he was with Natasha - because he was tired, because he wanted to relax, because there was something about sensory deprivation and intimacy that...well, he wasn’t sure how to qualify it, except that it was about trust. 

He kissed her as soon as the two science bros left, relieved. He used a hand to pull her in closer to him and could feel her smile against his lips. She put a hand on his wrist - they had never agreed that this would be the signal, it had just worked out that way. It was how a lot of things were between them. 

_Better to get it over with,_ she signed. _It needed to happen._

_Still exhausting,_ he said. _I want you before Steve shows up to apologize._ He could tell from the movement in her throat that she was laughing along with her smile.

He picked her and turned and sat her down on the bed - Natasha could just as easily perform that move on him, but she had certain things she wanted to push aside as well when it was just the two of them, in their own little world. 

He straddled over top of her and helped her slide off her sweatshirt. She had on a simple white bra - how many minds would be blown to find that, most of the time, the Black Widow preferred these types of undergarments? He put his hands on her breasts and kissed her neck, sucked on her earlobe, and slowly moved his hips into hers.

“Clint,” she said, and he smiled. 

“So beautiful,” he said, tucked some hair behind her ear. She reached up under his t-shirt and put a finger on his nipple, stroking it languidly. He shrugged the shirt off. This was why he liked weekends - and even if they had the opposite of 9-5 jobs, it was hard not to get caught up in the rest of the world’s rhythm. She was wearing a pair of his boxers as shorts, he had just had a Bloody Mary, and they could take all the time they wanted. 

She lifted her hips into his and he moaned, and she guided him over onto his side. Her fingers scratched down his chest and tangled in his chest hair as he took the opportunity to remove her bra. He sucked each nipple, bit them lightly, ran a hand through her hair as he did so. 

It was not that different, not being able to hear - now, at least. It had been in the beginning, when he hadn’t known when she would moan, when he was unsure what she wanted, when he couldn’t be sure if she was saying something in Russian or English. It was three years after he turned her into Fury, a year and a half since they had been together, that he finally told her about his hearing loss. Natasha had just nodded. _We all have these things,_ she said. _We reveal them when it’s right._

Her hand was on his cock, palming it when it as still in his sweat pants. She tapped his wrist again. _No underwear?_

_I just wanted coffee!_ he replied. She smiled.

_Like I mind._ She slipped his sweat pants off and slid her hand down from his chest to his cock. He moaned. Her touch was delicate, unhurried, and she had, at some point, acquired lube. He moved to his back as she stroked, moving her fingers over the head and its delicate underside, teasing. “Nat...” he groaned. 

She used her other hand to guide his legs up to his knees and then slipped between them. Her mouth was on his nipple again and he realized she was still in his boxers. He used a foot to slide them off and she looked up, mock affronted. Then she pulled back, kneeling, her breasts bobbing softly as she slipped out of the slight, soft underwear she was wearing. 

“God, Nat,” he said - the light was just right and she looked like a porcelain figure in some painting. Hearing wasn’t important, not when there was so much to look at, so much to feel. 

She leaned over and pressed a single finger over his lips and then kissed her way down. It was arduous, slow going for him, now that he knew what her intentions were. She spread his thighs and licked a strip up his cock, then swirled around the tip. She hummed, softly, taking just the tip in. “Tease...” he said. 

_You’ll see,_ she signed, raising her hand so he could see. He closed his eyes. They knew each other so well, by now, and yet she still found ways to surprise him. She was moving up and down his shaft, slowly, and twisting her hand gently at the root. Her lips lingered over the head and then her thumb pressed gently against his perineum. “Fuck, Nat!” he said. 

She hummed onto him and pulled her mouth off his cock so their eyes could meet. “Is that what you want?” she asked.

“I - anything,” he managed, but she had already moved up and was straddled over top of him. He reached up and grabbed her breasts. She moved her hips over his, lining herself up so that his cock was between her, but not in her. “Oh, god,” he said, and pulled her forward because he couldn’t stand the friction. 

He put some lube on his hand and slipped it between her - and he wanted this, badly, and had to remind himself to go slow with her, because she deserved it. He grazed a knuckle against her clit and then used a finger to part her. 

She leaned down and kissed his mouth as he pressed his thumb to her clit and slid a finger inside her. Their tongues immediately twined together and apart, and he circled slowly, adding pressure rather than speed. “Clint, yes...” she said, and her hair was brushing at the side of his face and he could only smile. He crooked the finger in her and changed the pace of his thumb. “God, you’re so good,” she said, and then her hand was on his wrist and pulling him away.

He mock pouted, and she shook her head at him. She moved down again, but this time her hand was on his cock. She guided him in and settled down slowly. He rubbed a finger across her nipple and she rolled her head back, exposing her neck, and moved slowly up and down. 

Clint thrust into her, and Natasha put a hand on his chest and another on the side of his face. He smiled at her, because right then she looked so perfect - soft and strong at the same time, his assassin and his lover. 

She leaned down, pushing her breasts into him, and he arched his hips to give her the contact that he knew she wanted. Their kiss was more intimate and not entirely a kiss - his mouth rested against her cheek, for awhile, and at another point their lips were only halfway joined.

Her shoulders tensed, and he grabbed at her hips and held her as she ground into him. Her shoulders relaxed as she came and her mouth was open and against his neck. He could hear her saying something, though it was so soft he was not sure what. He didn’t really need to. 

He thrust up into her and it was only a few more strokes before he came. She nuzzled him with her nose and rolled off of him and curled into his side. 

After a few moments, she stroked the inside of his wrist. _You really think Steve will come and apologize?_

_He likes to,_ Clint signed back.

_He’s so nice,_ Natasha replied. _He lived through years in a war, and he’s so nice._ When Clint had first met him, he legitimately wondered if all of the myths about that generation were correct - if America really was nice, and wonderful, and full of happy homemakers and men who had the dog bring them slippers when they got off of work. It took about two days before he realized that he was right in assuming that all of it was idealism - and that, really, Steve was just Steve. _If you’re so sure,_ Natasha added, _then I am going to shower._

_I could use a shower._ She arched an eyebrow at him and pointed towards the door. He sighed. He hated when she played like this. 

She had not ordered him to put his sweat pants back on, though, and he debated before deciding he didn’t need to scar a national icon/give Steve something else to apologize for. He smacked Natasha’s ass, softly, as she headed for the shower, then leaned over the bed to get his sweat pants. 

Nat stuck half her body out of the shower and signed to him, _Someone is knocking on the door._ She ducked back in quickly, and he had no doubt that she had locked the bathroom door, just in case. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased - for being right - or not, because he was going to have to deal with his fifth Steve Rogers apology of the week. 

She had no sense of fun. Or spontaneity. Definitely not.


	5. Chapter 5

“Clint,” Steve said, as he stood in the door. Clint waved him in. Steve glanced around, and then settled on the couch in the small living room area. “I wanted to-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Clint said, and there was nowhere else for him to go but the couch. He had to be able to look at Steve. “It’s fine, it was your instant reaction, and obviously you were concerned about the team-”

“Is your shower running?” Steve asked.

“Natasha’s taking a shower,” Clint replied.

“In your shower?” Steve asked, and then he shook his head slightly. “Oh, right. Uhm - well, if I’m interrupting something-”

Clint debated telling him yes, but that would only be delaying the inevitable. “No, it’s fine.” 

“Look, I just - I know what it’s like, for people to think...you aren’t capable of certain things. And I didn’t want to give you the impression I thought that about you.” 

Clint looked at Steve for a moment - he had a hard time imagining him as he had been in. There were several pictures in his file at SHIELD, and in all of them, he had a basic Steveness to him - even at that size, he had that All-American look set in his jaw - but still. Looking at him now, it was like this was how he was meant to be. There weren’t a lot of notes about the whole process, though there was an image of the other soldiers who had been considered for the project. Clint wondered exactly what Steve had done to convince them to pick him. 

“Thanks,” Clint said. Steve smiled and nodded at him. 

“OK, uhm...Thor mentioned being hungry, so I was going to go and get something for lunch?”

“Thor is always hungry,” Clint replied.

Steve shrugged. “I am too, I guess. Do you have any preferences?” 

“Pizza,” Clint said. He could always eat pizza, and there was a period when he had been grounded for two months with a broken leg and he had told Coulson that he was going to prove that it was perfectly fine for a person to eat nothing but pizza for that period of time. Clint sighed. 

“So...not pizza?” Steve asked.

“Oh, no...I was...it just made me think about Coulson, that’s all,” Clint said. He gave Steve a look that basically dared him to express so me platitude about losing a soldier. Steve just looked down. Maybe they were all a little too hard on him. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I wish I had a chance to get to know him better.” He paused, and looked awkward, and Clint decided that he was going to do his best not to be so hard on him. After all, he hadn’t appointed himself leader. Tony sort of had. “Pizza, then?” 

“No meat!” Natasha called, as the shower turned off.

“Right,” Steve said, a little louder. “Bruce said the same, so. I’ll go put the order in.” He smiled, and nodded at Clint, and then left.

Natasha walked out as soon as the door closed with just a towel wrapped around her. Clint turned and smiled, softly - her hair was still wet, and dripping slightly, and there was a wet sheen to her that was...his brain sort of short-circuited, at that point, and supplied only wet. Nice and wet.

 _That wasn’t so bad,_ she signed, and took the towel off of her body and used it to dry her hair. Clint broadened his smile to let her know that he was appreciative of the fact that she had decided not to do that in the bathroom.

 _No,_ he said, _I suppose not. I had a terrible thought, though. If Tony and Bruce are in the lab-_

 _That leaves us with Steve and Thor,_ she signed back, and pulled her hair out of the towel and shook it, slightly. She shrugged her shoulders. _Mario Kart worked._

_Only with more booze,_ Clint replied. _It’s raining. Why not movies?_

 _You don’t mind?_ Natasha asked. She knew he preferred to not have to read subtitles.

 _Lord of the Rings,_ he replied. He had that memorized. Plus, a movie would guarantee that there wouldn’t be two or three different conversations that he was going to have to follow. For a moment, he regretted giving the aids over to Tony and Bruce - they hadn’t fit well, sure, and he was able to be cavalier about that when he just went to go and get a cup of coffee. But a whole weekend of...well, socializing...that was another thing. 

It brought him back to the orphanage, after the set of aids he arrived with died and they didn’t have enough money, or good enough insurance, to get anything else for him. It was when he had learned to sign, and lip read, and all he remembered from that time was frustration at not being included in everything that was going on - at constantly relying on Barney to tell him what was going on, or having to go and ask Marianne, the aid who knew enough ASL for him to get the just of things. But it was never the full picture.

There had been plenty of things not to like about the circus - but at least, when he had made enough money, they but him another pair of hearing aids. _Can’t have one of our star performers not able to hear his cues!_ the Ringmaster had said, and Clint hadn’t been aware of how much he still had to pay for them.

Natasha put a hand on his chin and guided his face so that he was looking at her. “Clint?” 

He nodded. “Just thinking,” he replied, and she nodded her head.

“I love you,” she said. “Let’s go introduce them to hobbits.” 

He wondered if Bruce or Tony would be mad that they were watching Lord of the Rings without them - of course, if Steve and Thor responded like most sentient people did, it wouldn’t be the first viewing. 

* * * 

“Tony - this is way above my pay grade,” Bruce replied, after Tony finished with what he was saying - which had started to be about the hearing aids, which Bruce had to be responding to, and this proved that he had lost interest or started to ignore Tony at some point.

“I was talking about making a robot dog for Steve and Thor,” Tony said. “I think those two kids could use a pet, don’t you?” 

Bruce squinted at him, and then put his glasses on - which was adorable, the idea that what Tony had said required glasses. Not that Tony was objecting. He liked Bruce’s glasses. A lot. It was a shame that the original pair, ground zero for Tony’s glasses on Bruce Banner kink, had been broken during that unfortunate hulk on the helicarrier incident. Slightly off-topic - he wondered what kind of insurance SHIELD had.

“Uhm...really?” Bruce said. “Why not just get them a real, living dog? It would be less complicated.”

“In what sense?” Tony asked. “It would shit, for example. And require food-”

“I meant on the front end, I suppose,” Bruce said. “I don’t know why you thought I could get into these computer records - that’s what I meant, by the way,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes at Tony - and Tony knew that look, the one that said, has anyone ever suggested Ritalin? Why yes, yes they have, Tony would reply, and trust me - you think I’m bad now? Wait until I’m hyper-focused!

“Let me see,” he said, and oh-so-casually draped himself over Bruce, octopus style, to begin working the touch screen. “Huh,” he said. “JARVIS, I thought that little friend of yours that I left behind would suffice to get into personnel records-”

“SHIELD stores the health records under a whole different security protocol,” the AI replied. “Give me a few moments, sir. Not I think you’ll object.” 

“What?” Bruce asked, and Tony cocked his head and placed it on Bruce’s shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you object to not getting instant gratific-”

It seemed as good a time as any, Tony reasoned, especially given the glasses. And JARVIS had basically told him to do it, so there was someone - something? - to be held accountable if this didn’t quite work out. 

He turned his head and kissed Bruce, and it was better than he had thought kissing Bruce would be like in his many kissing Bruce fantasies. First, his lips were surprising soft and they tasted nice - the all natural beeswax chapstick appeared to have an actual flavor. Second, in this position, he was able to put a hand on Bruce’s thigh and grip hard, just in case the whole kissing thing didn’t make his intent clear.

“What were you saying about instant gratification?” Tony asked, because, come on! It was a perfect set-up. 

“I’m not sure,” Bruce said, and he pushed his glasses up and smiled at Tony. “Ugh. That was gratifying?” Tony grinned at him, and pulled himself - reluctantly - off of Bruce and plopped on the stool next to him so that he didn’t get an unfortunate neck cramp. Also so he could look Bruce in the eyes - glasses. Eye glasses.

“I’m also interested in gratification that takes...longer,” Tony said.

“Mmm,” Bruce replied, and he nodded. “OK.”

“OK?” 

“Tony - I’m sorry. I was trying to be...coy? That didn’t work?” Bruce leaned forward and kissed Tony this time, hard, pressing his lips down and working against Tony in an unexpected, urgent way that made Tony think of all varieties of permutations of this attitude in less than instantly gratifying scenarios.

“Sir?” JARVIS asked. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve managed to access to health records of all personnel in the Avengers Initiative.”

“They have my health records?” Tony asked, because there were certain things he didn’t want SHIELD - or anyone, outside of Dr. Reiss, who had looked after him since college - to know about him.

“They have a file that is largely blank outside of height, weight, and any information that could be found in public sources,” JARVIS replied. 

“Can’t wait to see mine,” Bruce said, and Tony slung an arm around his back - because he could do that now! 

Tony looked at the screen and narrowed his eyes - why hadn’t JARVIS pulled up Barton’s records? _Oh,_ he thought. Then, _Oh._ “Bruce?”

“You see that too?” Bruce asked. Tony nodded. 

“Yes,” Tony replied, and found himself grinding his teeth together. “Motherfucker.” 

“I will open Agent Coulson’s file for you, sir,” JARVIS replied. “It appears he’s currently at the Cleveland Clinic under the name Phillip Argent.” 

“Clever,” Bruce said.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint only noticed that the movie was muted because Thor and Steve began to look around for the cause of it. They had just got to the part where the fellowship was forming, and everyone was deeply invested - well, it was possible that Natasha was merely invested, but given that it was a fantasy movie Clint had decided it was fine to rank her on a sliding scale.

Then Bruce and Tony burst into the room, and he had to squint to try and tell what Tony was going on about - clearly something was really bothering him, since he was waving his hands and making threatening gestures at the rest of them. All Clint could hear was a rapid fire din. At first Clint thought that it was because they hadn’t let the scientists know that the pizza had arrived, but then he saw Bruce nodding along with Tony and realized it was probably something sort of serious. As he continued ranting, another voice joined in, though Clint couldn’t discern who.

 _What’s going on?_ he signed, but Natasha didn’t respond. He looked at her and was surprised to see her eyes narrowed and her mouth pressed together in what he knew to be one of her more deadly expressions. He checked Steve and Thor - both had their mouths open, Steve looking confused and Thor looking aghast. 

“What the fuck is going on?” he shouted, and everyone stopped talking.

“Oh, fuck, right,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Clint replied. “You’ve got my hearing aids.” 

Natasha took his head in her hands and turned him so that he was facing her. They rarely did this unless it was something important that she thought she could convey quicker through speaking than signing. Clint felt the bottom drop out on his stomach - all he could think was that Loki was back. “Tony and Bruce hacked into SHIELD to get your health records to make you better hearing aids,” she said, speaking as quickly as she knew he could follow, “and they found medical records showing that Coulson is alive.”

“What?” he asked, and pulled his head out of Natasha’s hands to look at Bruce and Tony. “What the fuck?” 

“We don’t know,” Bruce said. “That’s all it said. He’s alive, at Cleveland Clinic, under the name Phillip Argent.”

“Clever,” Clint said. 

“What do you think we’re going to do?” Tony said, and Clint had to follow Tony’s gaze to realize that he was replying to something Steve said. 

“We’re probably not supposed to know-” Steve began, and Clint turned his head - he hated this part of lip reading, it was like the world’s most annoying tennis match.

“Fuck that, Steve, he’s my-” Tony stopped, and then said, “Agent. My agent.” Clint had to quirk a slight smile - he was still processing everything, but all he knew then was that Tony had almost referred to Coulson as his friend. Phil would get a kick out of that. Will get a kick out of that, he amended, if what Tony and Bruce had found was true.

It could be true, of course, but there was a part of him that knew it was best not to go there until there was a living, breathing Coulson in front of his face. He had spent the past month and couple of weeks thinking that his best friend was dead- he had lost any qualms about referring to Phil that way, though he knew Phil still had some, all based on professionalism. Maybe those would go away now that SHIELD showed just how professional they could be.

Clint had mourned him in the deepest way possible, even though outwardly he had tried to move on - because if he hadn’t, he knew that he would just have to curl somewhere and let himself fade away. It was, after all, his fault. He didn’t care how directly or indirectly.

“Are we going to Cleveland?” Clint asked, pulling himself out of his head - one foot in front of the other, he thought. 

“Fuck yes we are going to Cleveland,” Tony said. “Happy’s getting a limo ready and the pilot will meet us at the airport-”

“I can fly,” Clint said.

 _No you can’t,_ Natasha signed, thrusting her hands near his face. _Your hearing aids._

“Can I have my hearing aids back?” Clint asked. Even if they weren’t working well enough for him to fly an airplane, he wanted them for when - if, he told himself, if they saw Phil.

Bruce looked at Tony, who looked at Bruce, who winced. Bruce had clearly lost the telepathic game of rock paper scissors they had played, because he said, “They’re sort of...not usable, in their current condition. Or salvageable.”

“Fuck!” Clint said, and pounded his fist on the couch for emphasis.

 _You said that they could take them,_ Natasha signed, possibly translating for Tony, since the volume in the room had gone up.

“I know that!” Clint said. “I am angry about the situation!” 

_Tony says look at it this way,_ Natasha signed, _you can get drunk with the rest of us while we fly to Cleveland._

* * * 

For the thirty minute car ride and the first ten minutes of the flight, Natasha attempted to keep up with the conversation while Clint read lips. Then he just threw his hands in the air, tilted back the bottle of Maker’s Mark he was working on, and then said, “There’s no fucking point. It’s not going to work.” He had to look down when everyone stared at him - how was it, again, that this had seemed fine this morning? Of course, major earth-shattering revelations had a tendency to make people forget their manners...about other, less major, possibly glass-shattering revelations.

“One at a fucking time,” Natasha said. Tony looked like he was going to raise his hand, but Natasha glared at him. 

“No, it’s fine - keep talking, you don’t all have to do this because of me,” Clint said. “I’m fine.” 

“Agent Coulson was a close friend of yours, and you are a close friend of ours,” Thor said, looking directly at Clint. “You deserve a part in this conversation. A part of your choosing.” There was a long pause, and everyone looked at their hands, took long gulps of alcohol, or bit at their lower lip. Then Thor said, “May I ask - why would Agent Coulson be in this Cleveland?” 

“They have,” Bruce said, smacking Tony on the thigh - and _that_ was interesting, something to be filed away and thought about later - “one of the best hospitals in the country, particularly for cardiology.” 

“I am glad he is getting good care,” Steve said, when Bruce finished. The pace of this had already started to annoy Clint. His brain was working at least ten times faster - it was like handwriting when you typed quite fast - largely posing questions and composing tirades directed at one Nicholas Fury. He had no doubt everyone else was doubly annoyed, and it just made him feel like a child again. A helpless kid who wasn’t worth the time - except now, of course, they were taking the time. And while he appreciated that, he knew that none of them probably liked it.

“Did you already discuss why the fuck no one told us?” Clint asked. 

“Well, if shouting over one another could be considered discussion,” Natasha said. Her grip on the vodka bottle was tight enough that it was threatening to break. 

“It’s been a month and a half,” Steve said. “Either Coulson is - could you tell, how he is?” 

“Was that directed at me?” Tony asked.

“Yes, I was trying to look at Clint so-”

“This is why I said you can all just fucking-”

“Clint,” said Bruce, and Clint stopped, because Bruce’s voice was deeper than normal and he felt Natasha tense next to him. “Sure, it’s annoying,” and he smacked Tony again in the thigh, “but we want to do it for you.” He smiled, and any hint of the Other Guy was gone. Which was good, since they had already concluded Hulk and airplanes don’t mix.

“Given the circumstances,” Steve said, giving Clint a slight smile, “this is how we have to handle this. As a team.” Clint sighed, and nodded, recalling their conversation earlier - another thing he was going to have to give Steve a little slack on. So, he liked apologizing. Apparently, he knew what he was doing. 

“No,” Tony said. “It just said he was currently alive, listed under that name. I had JARVIS look into Cleveland Clinic’s records and he was in a coma and only just woke up five days ago, but they expect he’ll recover.”

Clint closed his eyes and squeezed Natasha’s hand. It wasn’t the first time one of them had come back from the dead, but it was certainly the longest period that one of them had remained dead. 

“Good,” Natasha said. “But this means that...” she trailed off, and squeezed Clint’s hand tighter. Better that than the vodka bottle.

“Why wouldn’t Fury tell us?” Steve asked. Shit, Clint thought - was it really true you could trust the government, even the top secret portions, in the 1940s? More than possible - they didn’t even have the CIA yet. Poor Steve, he thought. He was going to have a lot of deep thoughts to think.

“Maybe he intended for Coulson to stay dead,” Tony said. “You were there, Steve. He used it to motivate us. To make us a team. Either they think that the lack of illusion would shatter us or just doesn’t want to look like an ass and so Coulson is going to stay dead.” 

“Because fucking with us certainly won’t have any negative effect,” Steve said.

Clint laughed - because, really? He wouldn’t put it past the one-eyed bastard.

“What?” Bruce asked, and Clint kept laughing - and, OK, a little hysterically, and he was glad for the first time in awhile that he couldn’t hear, because it was probably hyenaish and terrible. “Are you OK?”

“Maybe that was his fucking plan all along,” Clint said. “Maybe this is Phase II of get the Avengers to work together as a team. Because look at us, all together...” Natasha closed her eyes, and Clint presumed that she was muttering some expletives in Russian.


	7. Chapter 7

_Steve wants to know if Tony has a plan,_ Natasha signed to Clint, as they all stood outside of the main entrance to the Cleveland Clinic, doing their best not to look like a group. Rather, they aimed for looking like some random people gathered outside of a major hospital on a Saturday. Clint and Natasha had paired off together and then Steve was with Thor and Bruce with Tony under the assumption that, since they had the same hair color, someone might mistake them for family.

“That’s stupid question,” Clint said. 

_Tony resents that,_ Natasha signed, but she was smiling.

“I mean, doesn’t walking up and saying, Hello, I’m Tony Stark usually work?” Clint asked. 

_Tony said you have a good point,_ Natasha replied, and Clint shrugged his shoulders. 

As it turned out, there was no master plan needed. Tony informed the desk clerk that they were co-workers of Phillip Argent’s. “You’re in luck,” she replied. “If you’re very nice to the nurses up there they might let all of you in there at once.” 

As they stood in the elevator, Clint said, “I’m disappointed that no one is making an observation about Bruce always being nice.” Natasha gripped his hand - they’d been there before, and he was pretty sure his teammates had figured it out now as well. They all had their coping mechanisms. 

The nurse at the station regarded them suspiciously. “You’re _all_ here to see Mr. Argent?” she asked. “He’s had one visitor this whole time, so far.” 

“He had a bitching eye patch, didn’t he?” Tony asked, and Natasha signed quickly for Clint, who just shook his head - everyone always made that joke.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” The nurse asked. “He was blind.” Natasha gave Stark a look - because really, he should have known better. Fury was a spy. Bitching eye patches were distinctive. 

“Ma’am,” said Steve, Natasha translating again, and Clint smiled as Steve widened his eyes as far as possible and gave her his best _I’m really sorry for him_ look combined with his All-American smile. “We’re really eager to see Phil - we all work with him, and had to wait until the weekend as he’s just come out of his coma.” Thor, quickly catching on, gave a version of puppy dog eyes that were only slightly less lethal than Steve’s own. 

“Luckily, he’s in a private room,” she said, “so you should all fit in.” She looked Thor up and down, and then pointed a finger at Tony before she began walking down the hall. “What do you all do?”

No one responded for a pregnable moment - after all, what could they all be besides a motley crew of super heroes, super geniuses, and super assassins? Finally, Steve said, “We’re accountants, ma’am.” When Clint saw the sign he had to hold in his laughter, though it was good - if Coulson looked like anything, it was an accountant. 

The nurse narrowed her eyes at them, as though she didn’t quite believe it - or, possibly, she recognized Tony. His facial hair really made undercover work difficult. She rapped gently on the door and poked her head in, then she made a gesture with her hands. 

The others stepped aside so that Clint and Natasha could go in first. Coulson was sleeping, though it looked like he was stirring. There were several machines attached to him and one that looked like it was draining out of his lung. 

Clint inhaled, sharply, when he saw Coulson move and he had a hard time holding back tears - he had to glance over at the nurse to remind himself who he was supposed to be. He and Natasha grabbed two hospital chairs and pulled to Coulson’s bedside, allowing Steve and Thor to crowd in behind them while Tony stood at the foot of the bed and Bruce sort of lingered in the doorway. Once the nurse had walked away, Bruce closed the door and leaned against it.

Maybe it was the sound of the door the woke him, since they were never closed in hospitals. Or maybe it was the sudden presence of six relatively large people in a hospital room. Clint really didn’t care, he was just relieved to see Coulson’s eyelids flutter open. Clint was finally able to exhale.

Coulson glanced around, and then pressed his eyes together before opening them again. Then he looked at them, a little confused, before saying, “Stark? I knew I was in hell.”

“That really wounds me, Agent,” Tony said. 

“Purgatory, then.” Coulson glanced around and gave them all a wane smile. “Cleveland is that far from New York?” 

Natasha dug her nails into Clint’s palm, and he ground his teeth down as he quickly glanced over to Tony, confirming that they were on the same page - once discharged, they were taking Coulson back to the tower and they weren’t going to let him out of their sights. 

“What?” Coulson asked. 

When Tony didn’t say anything, Clint glanced back at Steve, nominating him as group spokesperson. “Well, Agent Coulson, sir...we thought you were, well, dead?” Steve winced at the last word, like he was asking a girl on a date. 

What little color Coulson had drained from his face, and he looked at Clint for confirmation. “Dead?” 

“Very dead,” Natasha replied. Her face was a bit of a snarl, and Clint knew she was probably running through the three scenarios they had concocted where they were confident there was a reasonable certainty the would be able to get the drop on Fury, if need be. 

“How long have I been dead?” Coulson asked.

“A month and half,” Steve replied. 

Coulson opened his mouth, and then closed it. Clint knew how he felt. 

Tony - sometimes, he had his uses, Clint would give him that - said, “You’d be really proud of us, though, Agent. You may have noticed - world saved - but, we’re all also living together. I renamed the Tower the - well, we’re going to have to rename it, again, but just officially, because we’ve been calling it Avengers Tower.”

“Oh, God,” Coulson said. “You named it the Coulson Tower?”

“Not me - Pepper. Coulson Memorial Tower. But we didn’t put a big sign up, since that sort of bit me in the ass, last time, ugh...” Tony glanced at Thor, who looked aggrieved, but nodded. 

“Well. I appreciate that,” Coulson said. “I knew I died. I did not know I was still dead.” 

“Well, obviously, Phil, without you around the paperwork must have got misfiled, or been improperly filled out,” Clint said, not able to keep it in. He knew he shouldn’t lash out at Coulson, since this wasn’t his fault, but he had once told Clint that he could trust Fury even when Clint had said he didn’t trust him as far as he could through him. Which wasn’t any distance, given Clint was fairly certain he’d never get close enough to Fury to even pick him up. “I’m sure it was just an oversight.” 

Coulson looked to the door, to reply. Natasha’s reaction was slightly delayed, since she had to extricate her one hand from Clint’s palm. He was grateful that she kept her nails well filed and short. _He had no idea._ And then, after a pause, Natasha stuck her jaw at Clint. _I know, Clint. I know. But it’s enough. You said what you needed to say._ Clint held her eye as she signed, and nodded his head. 

_Phil wants to know why I’m signing to you._

“Stark and Banner are performing some recreational science on my hearing aids,” Clint replied.

“That is unfair,” Tony replied, and Clint anticipated it and was able to look at him. “You said we could. And it’s not recreational - it will be an audiological breakthrough.” Bruce rolled his eyes and looked slightly embarrassed.

“What?” he said, to Tony. “I mean, I appreciate it - because you’re involved, it will be a breakthrough, not might. Or could...” 

“I’m wounded, Bruce,” Tony said. “I thought you and I, we were interested in...breakthroughs.” Tony cocked his chin down and arched an eyebrow, and Clint thought, _Oh._ And then, _Oh._

“You owe me $50,” he said, and turned to look at Thor.

“Aye,” Thor replied. “Were it only that I had currency of your realm, Clint.” 

Clint caught Natasha’s hand on his wrist, and she pointed towards Coulson. “You told?” Coulson asked.

“Sort of,” Clint said. “I had to get some new aids, after Lo-my cognitive recalibration, and they weren’t fitted right, or something. I just went out to get some coffee without them in, but-” He shrugged his shoulders.

Coulson looked around the room and appeared amused. “You actually do live together,” he said.

“Can you believe it?” Tony said. “I actually found five people who decided the idea of cohabitating with me wasn’t-”

Clint missed what Bruce said, though, then again, it didn’t really matter. He was walking towards Tony as he said it, and given the edge to Tony’s comment it was unlikely that the other scientist was actually able to express anything - Bruce tended to get long winded when dealing with that sort of thing. Which was probably why he figured, _fuck it,_ , or the Bruce Banner equivalent, and as soon as he got to Tony he put a hand on his waist and kissed him, hard. 

Clint grinned, and then looked at Coulson, who appeared mildly disturbed - Clint had to remind himself that, according to Nat, Coulson hadn’t been in the lab when the two of them had science-gasmed all over each other. “No,” Coulson said, finally. “I was wrong, both times. This is the morphine, isn’t it?”

“Nope!” Clint said, suddenly feeling giddy - ye olde emotional rollercoaster, not for those under four feet five inches tall. “It’s all very, very real!”


	8. Chapter 8

He likes me! Tony thought - he really, really likes me. This was on a admittedly embarrassing loop as Bruce kissed him. And, really, he hadn’t been fishing for it. He had just been a bit overwhelmed by the situation, and so he had...done what he usually did, which was generally not effective. Unless, apparently, he was trying to get Bruce to kiss him in effort to convince Tony he wasn’t a totally horrible person. Though, he noted, this was the sort of tactic you could only use once, otherwise it was manipulative.

By the time he got back to a normal stream of thought and pulled away from Bruce, he saw Clint, Coulson, and Natasha signing to each other - or, sort of. Coulson only had the use of one hand, since the arm that had been Loki’d was bound to his chest. “That is not fair,” he protested. 

“I believe I have deciphered the signal that is used for Stark,” Thor said, and smiled, proud of himself. Tony closed his eyes and inhaled, and then found a hand on his waist. He opened them, and looked at Bruce, who had both eyebrows raised. 

“Maybe we should go and get something to drink, or eat...” Bruce said, voice soft but determined. “Do you want anything - Clint? Natasha? Agent-”

“Phil,” Coulson said. “Really. Right now.”

“Phil?” Bruce asked.

“Do they have a Dunkin’ Donuts downstairs - I think one of the nurses said they did, and I would love a real coffee-” Clint shook his head, and signed something at him, and Coulson rolled his eyes. “OK, fine,” he said. “One of those powdered coffee flavored french vanilla things that doesn’t have caffeine.” 

Bruce nodded, though he glanced at Coulson and the various medical paraphenalia and sighed. “Alright. We’ll be back in about half an hour?” 

Natasha gave them one of her curt smiles, and nodded. Tony followed Bruce out and down to the elevators, Thor and Steve close behind them. 

“Soo...” Steve said, in the elevator, since he was contractually obligated to be the awkward one at these times. 

“I just thought they might need some space,” said Bruce.

“I believe you judged well, Bruce,” Thor said. “Besides, I could use sustenance.” 

“When can you not use sustenance?” Tony asked, and glanced back to see Thor shrug.

There was, indeed, a Dunkin’ Donuts downstairs in what might best be described as a food court. It was a huge improvement over the hospitals Tony had been in, back when he consented to general medical treatment outside of his trusted doctor’s office, and now, apparently, SHIELD - back before he had a mechanical device keeping shrapnel from impaling his heart. 

“Such a variety of delicacies,” Thor said, pressing his nose to the display. “I do not believe I have eaten them.”

“You clearly have not been spending enough time around me in the past two weeks, my friend,” Tony replied. 

“Oh, and there are small round ones as well!” Thor said. One of the cashiers was smiling at him. This seemed to be the general reaction Thor got, however, like he left a trail of rainbows and puppies behind him. 

Steve looked slightly pained, probably because he knew exactly what Bruce was going to say. “Yes. They’re from the middle of the other donuts, and so they cook them up, so as not to waste the dough.”

“How clever!” Thor said. “I wish to have a bucket of them.” 

When they sat down it was with a bucket of donut holes, another bucket of coffee, and a box of the delicious frosting covered and cream filled donuts that did not come in hole form. A different cashier had regarded them suspiciously until Thor had grinned at her and said, “What can I say, madam? I am a growing lad!” 

“Soo...” Steve tried again, as he reached for a donut hole, considered it - suspiciously, for no reason, since Clint wasn’t around to attempt to use it as a projectile. Then he ate it.

“You are going to make us talk about...stuff, aren’t you?” Tony asked, crossing his arms. “While I’m trying to enjoy my donut, and my coffee-”

“Isn’t that what people do, when they eat?” Steve asked. “Besides, stuff happened.” 

Tony considered this - he was going to have to try and remember it, and also possibly start keeping a mental list of all of the variety of golden nuggets and polished turds that escaped Steve’s mouth. There could be a successful Twitter for it, or, if he was feeling really ambitious, he could make fridge magnets or something. _Wisdom from Captain America._ If Steve took umbrage, he could always donate the proceeds to whatever charity that Steve supported. If he supported one - that was another mental note. Steve needed to get a PR representative before the media cannibalized him, piece by piece.

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?” Bruce asked, voice gentle.

Tony shook his head, doing his best to look dour, so that everyone - well, Steve and Thor, since Bruce would see right through him - would think he had been thinking of something sad and important. “I’m sorry, Captain. Please.” 

“I just - I don’t know. I think it would be good to just talk, that’s all. Sometimes it helps you understand things better.” Steve glanced around, nervous, and then gave a reluctant smile.

“Is that what you did with the Howling Commandos?” Tony asked.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “There’s a lot of downtime, in war - and a lot you need to process. Or...make the decision not to process.” That was another one for the Twitter feed/magnets, absolutely. Steve basically had money coming out of his mouth. 

“I agree with Steve,” Thor said. “It is when things are left unsaid that...” He paused - he really hadn’t spoken of Loki, since Thor had landed in the street in front of the tower a week ago, after visiting with Jane. “It is when things are left unsaid that they fester and grow, until eventually they boil to the surface and burst.” 

Bruce nodded his head, and Tony groaned and put his face in his hands. He was out numbered - he had thought Bruce would support him, completely forgetting that he was into meditation and tapes that sounded like beach waves and seagulls and good knew what else hippy dippy shit. “I hate feelings,” Tony said from behind his hands.

Bruce put an arm around his shoulder, and Tony sort of sank into it - definitely, definitely a lot easier to deal with this bullshit when there was someone who...liked you. And they were in that really awesome part of liking someone where it was new, and exciting, and you couldn’t wait to turn the other person inside out and figure out exactly how they worked. 

“Well...a lot has happened today. I think, with Clint, we’re all on the same page. But what about Coulson?” 

“Jane has said that you cannot trust SHIELD as far as you can throw them - which says more, coming from her, than it does I,” Thor said. “They have requested her to join them, to work on the astrophysics many times, but she has refused them in each instance.”

Something clicked in Tony’s head, and he was amazed that he hadn’t made the connection before - he knew she was a scientist, but it had never occurred to him that she might be- “Wait - Jane is...an astrophysicist?” Thor nodded. “In New Mexico..?”

“Jane Foster?” Bruce asked, and he and Tony looked at each other and Tony was glad that he could share this moment with him, where they both internally fan-girled out.

“Indeed, yes,” Thor said. 

_Not now,_ Bruce mouthed at him, because he knew that Tony wanted to make grabby hands and demand that Thor fly off with that magic hammer of his and return with Jane so that Tony could lock her - well, put her, that was a better way of phrasing it - in a lab with Bruce. Besides, it should make Thor happy, to have her so close, and... 

“You have heard of her work?” Thor asked. “She is attempting to recreate the Bifrost.” Bruce and Tony nodded. 

“That’s great,” Steve said. “But...” 

“Oh, right, mom, I forgot we were having an important family talk,” Tony said.

“Mom?” Steve asked. “I am not-”

Bruce sort of winced and sort of closed his eyes shut. “You sort of are team mom,” he said. “You take care of all of us.” 

Steve glanced off to the side as he ate several of the donut holes.

When he reached in a third time, Thor smacked his hand away. “Find your own holes, Captain.”

Tony did a very good job of not laughing at them. “OK, fine, I will accept that,” Steve said. “I just - what are we going to do about Coulson?” 

“In what sense?” Tony asked. “Because, in the practical sense, I’m going to order Jarvis to find us specialists in whatever he needs who make house calls, a couple of around the clock nurses, all the hospital equipment from the hospital equipment store, and then we’ll drag him back to the Tower as soon as they release him from here.” 

“You are friends with Agent Coulson?” Thor asked. 

“I...look, don’t tell him - Steve! - but, yes, OK? I mean, he was there since the first Iron Man suit, and... I like the guy. And really don’t appreciate being lied to. For this long.” He amended this, because, in hindsight, he could sort see Fury’s motivation - he and Steve needed to get their act together, and Clint needed something to spike his adrenalin again because he was running on fucking nothing at that point. The guy had, according to Natasha, slept for almost three consecutive days after. But, still - what would be the harm, especially once they were all co-habitating, in letting them all know..? Blatantly unacceptable.

“When I was in New Mexico, I gained respect for the Son of Coul,” Thor said. “It was of the utmost importance to him that he do his job and protect this realm.”

“Well, that’s - when he said, he knew he had _died,_ ” Steve added. “He just didn’t know...” 

Bruce was worrying his bottom lip, and Tony realized it was because he never got a chance to know Coulson. And because he probably blamed himself for Coulson going and doing what he did - if he hadn’t transformed, they would have been much better equipped to deal with Loki. Tony reached over and squeezed at his upper thigh, and met Bruce’s eyes. He shook his head, and Bruce looked down. Tony squeezed again. 

When he looked up, Thor was grinning at them and Steve was doing his best to look like he wasn’t paying any attention to them and instead was very interested in his doughnut. “It was impolite of me not to congratulate you on your coupling,” Thor said, and Steve gave them both one of his awkward smiles.

“That’s very kind of you, Thor,” Tony said, and Bruce still wasn’t really looking up but at least he gave a nod. 

“While we have each been touched by the Son of Coul, it is Natasha and Clint who will be most affected by this sudden and unexpected change of events,” Thor said. “As their teammates, we most do what we can to support them.”

For a moment, Tony attempted to reconcile Thor’s wonder over the doughnut holes with the statement that he just made, and then decided it was best not to. Asgard must be an interesting place indeed. 

“That’s...OK, that was basically what I was thinking,” Steve said. 

“Good,” Tony replied. “And, to start with the supporting, we should get some more doughnut holes-”

“They were delicious,” Thor said, peering into the empty bucket.

“-and that fake coffee for Coulson, and see what else we can do.” Tony looked at Steve, who nodded.


	9. Chapter 9

“Fury came to see me,” Coulson said. Between him being down an arm and Clint, effectively, being without his ears, they realized that the best way for the three of them to communicate would be for Clint to read Coulson’s lips and for Natasha to sign. 

“We heard,” Clint said. “Nice blind man. Looks like you have all sorts of great handicapped friends.” Clint grinned at the end of this, but he was rarely able to fool Coulson anymore.

“Clint, I-” Coulson glanced away from a moment, and Natasha punched Clint in the shoulder. Clint marveled at how in control she was now, because he knew that she was probably seething with just as much anger as he was. But that was why she was the better spy.

“I know, Phil - I shouldn’t...I just can’t believe - no, I can believe, that’s the problem,” Clint said. 

“I know,” Coulson said. “I was in a coma-”

 _You woke up five days ago,_ Natasha signed. 

“Really?” Coulson asked, and shook his head slightly. “Huh. It’s seemed...” He giggled.

“That’s why I like you when you’re doped up, Phil,” Clint said, and this time the smile was genuine.

 _We all know Fury’s on his way right now,_ she signed. _He probably has the room bugged. Or tapped into the visitor log we had to register for._

 _That was why I shared my initial reaction this way,_ Coulson signed slowly. 

“Well, there’s that, then,” Clint said, and he sighed. “What did he say?”

“Mostly explained what happened - showed me a news package from Manhattan...Barton, do we need to have the talk again?”

“Which one, sir?” Clint asked. He had to give Coulson credit where it was due. As soon as he heard his last name he instantly switched over to Agent and Coulson and sir. 

“The one about you jumping off of buildings and relying on the grappling arrow,” Coulson replied. 

“Few cracked ribs-”

 _Sprained knee, bruised hip bone, and plenty of stitches,_ Natasha signed. _I’d say you were in great shape, Clint._

“I have done worse,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s the sort of standard we need to use, Clint,” Coulson said. “When I woke up...well, I knew that the group had succeeded, since...well. But I didn’t know you were OK.” 

Clint frowned, not having considered this. “Phil, I’m sorry.” Other agents have been compromised without mind control, Natasha told him, and while that had helped - it was still a searing, stabbing pain. Except now, instead of being a constant, it only happened when he was reminded of things, or when his thoughts began to stray...

“You don’t need to apologize - I mean, fuck, when did you find out? A couple of hours ago? How fast can Stark’s jet make it from New York to Cleveland?”

“It’s no Quinjet,” Clint replied. 

“Fury came the next morning. The nurses - they knew I was from Manhattan, so they told me what happened, but-”

“They were all drooling over Steve’s ass in that suit or talking about the Hulk?” Clint asked. 

“I had hoped - I was surprised, pleasantly, that Banner was able to-” Clint noted the use of last name. Coulson hadn’t got to know Bruce at all, really. Natasha said he introduced himself when Bruce was working on the Helicarrier lab, but that that had been the extent of it. 

_Control Tony? I know, right?_ Natasha signed, and Phil and Clint were able to laugh along with her at that. 

“Uhm, when did..?”

“Today?” Clint said. Natasha considered this for a moment, and then nodded. 

_Though they’ve been dancing around it...well, we just moved in last week. Bruce has been there since the fight._

Coulson smiled at that, and Clint was fairly certain that his eyes were a little wet as well - but, hey, morphine. Clint had once sobbed while watching some really bad romantic comedy once in the Helicarrier medical room and Coulson had the dignity to never mention it to anyone. 

“That’s...well, that’s great,” Coulson said. “And Stark saved everyone-” 

_Steve spent a week apologizing for that,_ Natasha signed, and then glanced at Clint - they both knew that Fury probably didn’t share all the details of the Great Glow Stick fight with Coulson. _Steve_ she stopped, pressing her lips together - Clint didn’t feel comfortable interjecting, considering at that point he was trying to kill all of them - _we were all fighting, because Loki’s staff was in the room. Steve told Tony he would never put anything, put it all on the line._

“Oh,” Coulson said. He pressed his lips together. “I can see why Captain-”

“It’s OK to call him Steve,” Clint said, and Coulson blushed. He knew how deep Coulson’s feelings went for Captain America - that had been another morphine moment, actually, for both of them. The joys of narcotics! 

“Well, I can see why he might say that...” Coulson said.

 _It’s OK. Tony told him anything special about him came out of a bottle,_ Natasha signed. Coulson arched an eyebrow. _I think there are some daddy issues going on there...apparently Howard had a bit of a reverence for Steve._ Coulson nodded at this. _Plus, none of us were ourselves._

Clint looked down at that, and Natasha wrapped an arm around his shoulder. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, and he let a few tears come out before he looked up and wiped his eyes. Coulson reached his good arm forward and grabbed Clint’s, and they were silent for a long time. 

After they broke away Coulson said, “I know it’s not OK, and it never will be, but...” 

“Well, this makes it a little better,” Clint replied. Before Coulson could respond, something caught his eye in the door and he looked over to see Tony. 

“And we’re back!” Tony announced, because his secret mutant ability was possessing the world’s worst timing. “Fake coffee for Coulson and a bucket of donut holes for everyone.”

Natasha just shook her head and took the bucket of donut holes from Thor, who appeared a little reluctant to let go. All Clint could think was, I feel you, buddy.


	10. Chapter 10

They were all in the room when Fury walked in. Most of them were eating donut holes - it was their third bucket, and the Dunkin’ Donuts employees were likely becoming suspicious of them. Tony was on his phone with his new personal assistant, getting them rooms at a hotel on the Cleveland Clinic Campus that had suites. They had agreed that, barring world-saving emergency, they would stay in Cleveland until Phil was discharged, which was likely sometime next week.

 _He really needs his own theme,_ Clint signed when Fury walked into the room. _Like Darth Vadar._ The effect was slightly tapered, however, since Fury was wearing sunglasses and had his white cane with him. He really needed to get a guide dog, Clint thought. They could keep it as the office mascot. He made a mental note to get one - after all, dogs decreased stress in the workplace and they could certainly use that. If Fury threw a shit fit he would just give it to Steve.

 _A junior agent proposed that once and was never heard from again,_ Natasha replied, and Clint grinned at her.

“Barton, Romanov - I thought we had an agreement about that?” Fury said. 

“I’m sorry, Director, sir,” Clint said, not in the mood, “I don’t have my hearing aids with me, currently.”

Fury was likely narrowing his eye at him, and then turned and looked at Stark. “Why do you presume I’m involved?” Stark asked. “I mean, I am, but only on Agent Barton’s suggestion because apparently the ones he has right now are government issue bull-”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Fury said, and he closed the door and leaned against it. 

_You know what?_ Clint signed to Natasha and Coulson. _Don’t even bother trying to keep up. I know what’s going to be said._

It was better if he didn’t have the opportunity to say anything. It wasn’t as though he had gone into his employment with SHIELD thinking that it would be an ideal workplace environment, but there were some things that Fury had pulled over the years...and sure, the man knew how to get results, but he was probably also a sociopath.

And it was definitely better, he decided, to just be able to lean back in his chair and watch without having to listen. All he had to do was enjoy a steady hum of activity. He was able to see the many shades of red Steve was capable of generating, to admire the steady, stern, almost dad-like look of disapproval Thor had, and to be entertained by Stark’s gesticulating - they probably should have cut him off on the caffeine, at some point. Natasha held his hand throughout, and Clint grinned every time Coulson reached for his morphine clicker.

“Son of a bitch!” he said at one point, clicking repeatedly.

“I think you can only get that to work, like, every ten minutes, Phil,” Clint said, emphasizing the first name when he looked at Fury.

He wasn’t concerned - what could the Director do? Fire them? They had the leverage, they certainly didn’t need SHIELD if they had the support of Stark Industries behind them - and Tony certainly seemed to enjoy privatizing world peace. Clint had never been in this position with the Director before, and enjoyed as the crease deepened across his brow and at the top of his nose.

They won, in the end, or at least Clint surmised they did when Fury opened the door and then had to resume his cover’s posture as he walked out.

 _Tony says that we’re going to stay here in shifts,_ Natasha signed, after they all got a moment to exhale. 

“OK...” Clint replied. “Isn’t that a little..?”

Tony’s eyes sort of bugged out, and all he managed to do was point at Coulson. “Dead!” he said.

Clint held his hands up - never, before, had he been able to cut down Stark’s verbosity like that. 

“Aren’t we supposed to just be co-workers?” Clint asked.

“That was just our cover to get in,” Tony replied. “I’m back to being Tony Stark, don’t know about the rest of you.”

“Were you ever actually under-cover?” Clint asked. Tony just shook his head at him, but Bruce grinned. 

_Coulson is protesting,_ Natasha said.

“Sorry, Phil,” Clint said, and the agent turned to face him. “We’re keeping you.”

“Come play with us,” Bruce muttered. “Forever and ever...”* He looked around, realizing he had said that out loud. “OK, yeah, totally inappropriate. Sorry.” 

“You have a twisted brain, Dr. Banner,” Tony said. 

_Please tell me that we don’t have to share a hotel suite with them,_ Clint signed to Natasha, and Coulson giggled. This startled Tony, who turned his head almost to his shoulder in utter fascination.

 _Fuck no,_ Natasha said. _We have our own. Steve and Thor are going to share._

 _Odds that they’ll get together?_ Clint asked. Coulson looked slightly appalled - Clint couldn’t help but grin at him.

“You know, I think I can safely say that you actually don’t have a grin that isn’t shit eating, Barton,” Coulson said.

“Can we keep him on morphine?” Stark asked. 

“That would seriously diminish my efficacy, Mr. Stark,” Coulson said. 

_Thor doesn’t understand the expression shit eating grin,_ Natasha signed. 

_Best left to Stark to explain,_ Coulson replied.

 _Thor has definitely figured out the sign we’re using for Stark and is laughing heartily,_ Natasha said, and it was probably a combination of the way that she phrased it and Clint’s having to look back to see Thor with his head tilted backwards, clearly chuckling, that made the archer laugh as well.

“Steve and I will stay here first,” Thor said, “If that is alright with you, Son of Coul? We can both regale you with battle tales! I only imagine that Bruce and Tony might like some time to themselves-” Bruce managed, then, to exceed any color of red previously generated by Steve, “and that Natasha and Clint might like some time to speak to one another?” 

_Coulson says that’s fine,_ Natasha said. _We can head back to the hotel?_

Clint looked at Coulson, who nodded at him. What a clusterfuck, he thought - at least, looking around the room, he knew that none of them was going to act like this was something that was over and done with. He remembered reading in a Cosmo once, while waiting for a mark, that there was a formula for calculating how long it would take you to get over a break-up. Obviously, no one ever had any need to do one for getting over the fact that your friend had died, but he hadn’t - psych! But it was probably along those lines. 

Coulson reached over, and Clint squeezed his hand. “We’ll be back in-”

 _Steve says six hours,_ Natasha signed. 

_Should we get them some more donut holes?_ Clint replied.

 _With their puppy dog eyes combined, I am sure they can convince some nurse to do it for them,_ Natasha replied.

 _Lydia, the night nurse, is just going to love them,_ Coulson signed. _I bet she squeezes Steve’s cheek._

Clint smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Shining


	11. Chapter 11

“Tony - I think, I should say this, before we get to the room, which is, a lot has happened today, and maybe we should-”

Tony frowned as Bruce continued, tripping over his words in the particularly adorable way he had mastered, at some point - though Tony was sure it came from a place that wasn’t adorable or cute and that it was just Bruce’s strength of character or something that made it something charming. Was he saying he didn’t want to..? Or was he just saying what he thought he was supposed to say? “Bruce,” Tony said, and he put his arm in front of the other man, blocking his access to the door of their hotel suite.

“Yes?” Bruce asked, wincing slightly - he really rivaled Steve for the team’s best kicked puppy look. And that was an idea! Avengers superlatives.

“You don’t want to..?” Tony asked, pouting.

Bruce rain a hand through his hair. Gotcha, Tony thought. “Well, no, I would like to, but I just want to make sure-”

“Bruce,” Tony said, drawing out his name, “How long have we been living together?”

“Ugh...a month and a half?” Bruce replied.

“And we’ve basically-” Tony stopped, because he almost said been up each other’s asses, and that would have been highly counterproductive, “-been on top of each other most of that time, right?” Only slightly less, but still less, counterproductive.

Bruce nodded. “But I just thought-”

“It’s very good of you, Bruce, I like that about you, I really do, but I have had an exceedingly stupid day and so have you, and I know there are two things in that room which are guaranteed to help us deal with this exceedingly stupid day.” Bruce quirked an eyebrow. “The enormous bed I made sure we got, and the mini bar.” 

“Drink good,” Bruce said. 

“Yes,” Tony said. This was progress. Bruce was basically consenting to being liquored up.

Tony pulled all of the bottles out of the minibar - one of the many small pleasures of being a billionaire. He went for the mini Jack Daniels first, and passed one to Bruce. “Ready?”

“Oh, no, like a shot?” Bruce asked.

“Yes, Bruce, like a shot - what, were you going to sip this?” Tony asked. Bruce gave him a slow smile and then pulled the lid off of his bottle. They clinked them together. AS they drank, Bruce sat on the bed and Tony sat on the floor in front of the mini bar. 

Five mini bottles later, they ordered room service, which provided them with a bottle of a fairly decent red wine. After eating the hamburger/veggie burgers - good, for room service - Tony turned to Bruce and said, “Now that I’ve bought you dinner-”

Bruce reached across their dining table and grabbed at Tony’s shirt. He pulled him close with enough force that he pulled Tony’s chair along with him. Tony thought that it would probably be bad press to unleash the Hulk on the Cleveland Clinic - but then he looked in Bruce’s eyes, right before Bruce kissed him, and saw they were still soft and brown. 

Good to know, he thought. He should have got Bruce liquored up weeks ago. 

They were on the bed in an instant, and from their clothing didn’t stand much of a chance. Bruce ran a hand over the reactor and then gently thumbed at Tony’s nipples, which just made Tony grin. “I won’t break,” he said.

“No, I know,” Bruce murmured. He demonstrated his understanding of this principle by sucking, hard, on Tony’s lower lip before he kissed his way down Tony’s neck. Tony arched into the kisses and moaned softly - he had to save the bigger, better ones for the appropriate moments.

Tony pulled and twisted at one of Bruce’s nipples while his other hand ran through Bruce’s chest hair, which was - bountiful, and just as salt and peppered as the hair on his head and, yeah, Bruce was sort of perfect. 

He pulled the lube out of his pocket before he began to unbutton Bruce’s pants. “Huh,” Bruce said.

“Hospital gift shop, of all places,” Tony said. Bruce shook his head and arched his hips so Tony could slid his pants down. 

“Well,” Bruce said. Tony cocked his head, surprised to find Bruce suddenly nude under his pants. "You know why," Bruce said. Tonny grinned at this - and, so Bruce didn’t feel alone, he slipped out of his own boxer briefs. 

Despite the fact that he had wanted this for awhile, and he figured that Bruce had, too, maybe plus or minus a few days, they proceeded slowly. Their hands explored, stroked and touched muscles, shoulders, hips, and thighs as they kissed. Tony was the one who began to kiss down, to keep his hands moored in Bruce’s chest hair, and to lick a long stripe up his cock. “Oh, fuck, Tony,” Bruce moaned. 

Tony took his time, lathing just as much attention on his cock as he had his body - finding the spots that made Bruce moan, the ones that were a little ticklish, and the ones that just made him gasp. Finally, he took him down, all of him, and palmed his balls at the same time. “Tony!” Bruce said, and Tony grinned. He gently rubbed the balls as he held Bruce in his mouth, then slowly slid up his cock. “Tony?” 

“Yes?” he asked, looking up, not really sure now was the time he would be posing a question, if their positions were reversed, but-

“What - how do you..?” OK, fair enough, he thought, and he kissed the tip of Bruce’s cock and rolled his balls in his hand. 

“Do you have a preference?” he asked, hoping - well, not that it really mattered. 

Bruce shook his head. Maddening, Tony thought. Time for an executive decision. He suspected it had been awhile since Bruce had done this - or, at least, with someone where he felt he could totally let go. So he, Anthony Edward Stark, was going to make it superb. 

“Good. Then relax.” He took Bruce’s cock into his mouth again and began to move, up and down, tonguing at the various places of interest he had found along the way. He glanced over to see Bruce tugging and pulling at the sheets and he grinned. Tony slid his thumb back and pressed, then rubbed, and Bruce was issuing sounds that no one would have ever thought someone as soft-spoken as Bruce would make. 

“Tony - I’m going to-” Bruce managed, and Tony took this as a cue to slow his pace. “Fuck!” Bruce said, and Tony pressed back into his perineum and then moaned onto Bruce’s cock. “Oooh, fuuck!” Bruce said. Tony sped up for the last few strokes then took Bruce’s orgasm down easily. “Unghth?” 

“Oh, Bruce, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me after...” Tony hummed and then gently rolled Bruce onto his side. He kissed him. Bruce moaned as their tongues tangled with each other. When Bruce was still in that post-orgasm haze Tony took his leg and pulled it over his hip, giving him access.

“Hmmth?” Bruce asked, not removing his mouth.

“I told you to relax, Bruce,” Tony murmured, and kissed his neck as he worked the lube over his fingers. 

“OK,” Bruce said, and he gave Tony one of those rare, soft smiles that just made Tony ache somewhere near his pancreas.

Tony opened him slowly, arching their hips together for contact, kissing Bruce almost lazily. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re so good with your hands,” Bruce said, at one point, and then he grinned. “Or...your mouth.”

“Dr. Banner!” Tony said, slipping a third finger into him. Bruce winced, slightly, and Tony raised his eyebrows slightly. “If this isn’t-”

“No, Tony, I want...just...it’s been...” Bruce shrugged and gave him a wincing smile, and Tony ran his other hand through Bruce’s hair as he continued to stretch him. 

Tony rolled on his back and pulled himself up into the pillows, and Bruce cocked his head before understanding what he was after - which was good, Tony decided, a sign that he had continued to display dexterity with his fingers. 

Bruce took the lube and worked it over Tony’s cock, thumbing at the head and stroking right around the slit. “Fuck, Bruce...” Tony murmured, and then Bruce was on top of him and down into his lap.

He settled onto Tony's cock slowly, and Tony could only think - fuck, he is tight, and he is perfect. The position gave Tony a perfect view of Bruce’s chest, of the coils of hair, his nipples, the light delineation of muscle. Tony gripped the other man’s shoulder as he slipped all the way inside of him. Bruce held there for awhile, then leaned over and kissed Tony hard.

Was it a surprise that they had great sex? No. Bruce seemed to sense what he wanted before Tony knew it was what he wanted - an increase in pace, Bruce clenching against him, Bruce brushing the sweaty hair out of his face. 

Tony arched his hips, at one point, and got one of those ungodly noises from Bruce. “Just! That - again!” Bruce said, and Tony grinned as Bruce worried at his bottom lip and tilted his head back. 

He had his hand over Bruce’s cock not soon after they discovered the right rhythm, the right angle, and he did his best to keep up with their increasing pace. “Fuck, Bruce, you’re so perfect, you’re so-” Tony said, before coming hard and fast into the other man - pleased he was able, despite losing most presence of mine, to flick his hand over Bruce’s erection for the last few strokes the other man needed. 

“Oh, god, Tony,” Bruce said, and he had both hands on either side of the arc reactor and looked completely blissed out - which was a highly scientific definition. 

“Yeah?” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Bruce replied. 

After Bruce pulled himself off of Tony and snuggled into his chest they lay together for a good five, six minutes. This was a good deal longer than Tony had managed to stay still with just about anyone else. Bruce most have sensed the beginnings of restless when he said, “Shower?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “And then we’re going to teach ourselves ASL.”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “That’s a good idea-”

“Fuck yes, it’s a good idea - they’re going to be able to keep talking about me, otherwise-”

“Oh, Tony,” Bruce said, and kissed him before rolling off of his chest and walking towards the bathroom. He turned, glancing over his shoulder, and gave Tony a sort of faux-Blue Steel look that was very hard to say no to, so Tony hopped off of the bed and followed him into the bathroom.


	12. Chapter 12

It didn’t occur to Clint until the next morning, when he reached to the bedside table, that he was going to have to go without his hearing aidas for the longest period since he had been a child. The new aids were at SHIELD, and he didn’t think he was in a position to request they be mailed to him in Cleveland - not only because of the Coulson/Fury thing, but also the fact that he had let Stark and Banner dissect his previous pair. 

_We will make it work,_ Natasha signed to him, when he explained this to her.

 _It is incredibly annoying,_ he signed back.

 _I think that’s what that saying was meant to address,_ she replied, and arched an eyebrow at him. She had made him promise not to tell anyone about her Project Runway infatuation.

They did make it work - it shouldn’t have surprised Clint, but it did. The Avengers managed to stop an alien invasion without even knowing one another. And that was generally the sort of bonding experience that got people to work together as a team, if they hadn’t before. It also helped that, after that first day, the pace of things slowed. Everyone had shouted as much as they needed to and were in a better position to be cognizant of Clint’s lip-reading and translation needs.

They maintained their watch schedule. Coulson was right - the night nurse, a lovely woman in her fifties, found Steve and Thor to be completely adorable and was disappointed to find that Steve wasn’t a Cleveland resident, since she had decided to hook him up with her college age daughter. Another nurse brought them donut holes when she came back from her breaks - and Natasha was pretty sure she caught Thor and her making out one evening, though no one else was there to confirm it and Thor said something about not betraying a ladies' trust.

Not surprisingly, most of the nurses bristled around Tony and enjoyed Bruce, especially when he began to tell them stories about his work around the world. Clint had varying experiences with the nurses - you would think, as nurses, they would be better attuned to things like people using ASL and lip reading. Clint and Natasha got along best with one of the day nurses, who, to Natasha’s great amusement, showed them the tumblr dedicated to Clint’s biceps, Thor’s hair, and Steve’s ass - titled _Earth’s Real Mightiest Heroes_

But then, on the fifth day, he and Natasha had both been sleeping. Natasha had insisted on taking the couch since she was shorter and Clint was in the extra bed they had convinced the hospital to put into the room. Clint had been right, earlier - even though it was firmly against protocol for adult patients, there was a lot that a simple Hello, I’m Tony Stark could take care of. He opened his eyes to see a new swing shift nurse check on Phil’s vital signs, and he was able to catch a slight hum that indicated she was speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his head up and meeting her eyes. “I can’t - I’m deaf.” He gave her a smile, and she cocked her head at him slightly. “I can read your lips.” 

“I was just saying, Mr. Argent is a nice man. It’s nice he has friends like all of you...” There was something in the way that she looked at him, though, that brought him back to the early days in the circus when Barney had apologized to everyone for his brother’s inadequacies. He could still hear his older brother's voice - good thing you picked up everything so quickly, Clint! There had been a hint of threat, there.

The nurse went back to her work, and then revealed the source of her uneasiness when she turned to face him. “I don’t mean to pry...but - you are who I think you all are, right?” Clint nodded, giving her a short smile. “Wow. That’s...well. You must be really good, to be on the team and be-” 

Clint just looked away from her before he could see what else she wanted to say, and instead focused on Natasha. She had curled into herself, and some of her hair was in her face. This is what I have, what I’ve accomplished, he told himself - I am loved. I have friends. I have a team. I make a difference. Sure, there were dickheads - big, Fury sized dickheads and small, nurse sized ones - but these were the things that mattered.

He was relieved that when he turned around again, the nurse was gone. Natasha, roused by the nurse, got up and kissed Clint on the cheek and asked if it was OK if she went to go and help Tony with some details for Coulson's arrival over the phone. Later, knowing what he and Coulson were about to talk about, Clint would decide that this was all planned.

Once Natasha left, Coulson shrugged at Clint. “Don’t let that nurse...she’s...well, she was never my favorite.”

“I thought you had to, you know, have compassion to be a nurse,” Clint replied.

“You’ve been to SHIELD medical, right?” Phil asked, and Clint grinned. 

“Maybe we should recruit her,” Clint replied. 

“We like competence, in addition to the required horrible bedside manner,” Coulson said. “Stark is back in New York?”

“Supervising the installation of everything at your suite - you’re getting your very own physical therapy room,” Clint said. Coulson shook his head - and Clint knew, the protest that was going to issue from his mouth because Coulson had spent a lifetime making sure that everything was perfect for other people. “Don’t even. You won’t talk him down. Any of us.” 

“You’re OK with Fury?” Coulson asked, instead.

“You, as in me, or as in the Avengers?” Clint asked. Coulson moved to shrug, but then he winced - he still hadn’t got used to the fact that one side of his body was a lot more sensitive to stimuli and movement. “The Avengers? Sure, we’re still part of the whole thing - I mean, I knew what I was getting into with Fury, and so did Natasha and Tony. But we’re committed to each other, and I guess...I mean, I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t respect Fury. He’s effective.” Clint paused. “I’ve been on both sides of his...schemes, whatever you want to call them. But this - this long, to me, it’s a little bit of a lack of respect.” 

Coulson nodded, and it seemed he understood what Clint was attempting to say. Clint was never good with these types of things.

“Besides, it will be fun, Phil - remember the last time we were roommates!” 

“Almaty,” Coulson said, and he shuddered. 

“Well, you know - well, not for an absolute certainty, since it is Tony - but you know there probably won’t be that many goats.” Coulson grinned at this, and Clint smiled, hoping that he had forestalled the continuation of their very important discussion. He hated them. It was why he usually let Natasha take the lead. “And! I brought my waffle maker.” 

“He’s a lot more tolerable when he’s getting fucked well,” Coulson mused, and then widened his eyes. Clint pat his hand.

“It’s OK, Phil, it’s the morphine. The barrier between thought and speech breaks down. I won’t tell anyone, even when I agree.” For some reason, this caused Coulson to furrow his brow. Damn, Clint thought - he hadn’t effectively distracted him after all.

“Have you been OK, this week?” Coulson asked. “With...” 

“I’ve been OK,” Clint replied. He really hadn’t had time to process all of his feelings - about how the team had reacted, about how they had treated him, about their willingness to accept him. It was probably for the best. A lot of that was still foreign territory for him.

“Clint...” Coulson glanced away, and Clint knew what was coming - because they hadn’t talked about this yet, not really, and they needed to. Clint was glad that he had taken a couple of painkillers that he and Natasha might have relieved the hospital pharmacy of. “Did it hurt, when he..?”

“He just touched the skin,” Clint said. “It wasn’t...”

“Maybe that’s not the right word,” Coulson said. “I felt...so much rage. Anger. In that moment, I saw everything, why he - daddy didn’t love him enough, didn’t tell him who he really was...and sometimes I still feel it.” Clint nodded, knew what Phil was trying to make light of. When you’ve lived 1,000 years you had a long time to let things simmer.

“Oh, I got that,” Clint said. It was why he was currently engaged in an elaborate dance around Thor. He had been made to feel it all from Loki’s perspective, to be sympathetic to him, even though there was a small, conscious part of him that recognized him for the genocidal psychopath that he was. The part of him that just watched as everything happened, as his body moved and did and said things that he had no control over.

They were quiet, for awhile after that. “Did it hurt, physically?” Coulson asked. “Because when I feel his rage, it burns...it’s like a fucking Nazgul wound.*” Clint grinned at the geek reference, but knew he only had a moment or two to enjoy it.

Clint pressed his lips together and sighed. There were two people, really, that he could share this with. “No,” he said. “It was like being on...so many fantastic drugs. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t eat, I must have drank but only what was necessary and I felt fantastic.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “My shoulder didn’t hurt, my back didn’t ache, I - I could hear.” Coulson raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. “He said he had no use for me, fragile and faulty.” 

“You know you’re hardly that,” Coulson replied. He smiled at Clint, then, and stretched his one good arm above his head. “I’m ready to get out of here,” he said.

“You and me both,” Clint replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nazgul wounds are from the Lord of the Rings. Even after the cut heals, it still causes pain.


	13. Chapter 13

They were all waiting at the elevator for Phil to arrive from Cleveland. Steve had a banner printed out at a local office supply store - no one was surprised when he unfurled it, and then hung up the streamers to go with it. Welcome Home Phil! it said, and Tony only admitted to Bruce that it was the sort of thing that Coulson would appreciate and, given that it was Steve’s doing, he might even do more than blink at it. 

“Are you insinuating he has a crush on Steve?” Bruce asked, cocking his head. 

“Don’t know - it’s all very confusing for me, now, I was certain that he and the cellist were real but she was just some cover...presumably so his minions didn’t think he was a robot, or something-” Bruce interrupted him by kissing him. Bruce had a tendency to do this when Tony was in danger of a tangent. Tony did not mind. 

Tony hoped that the ride hadn’t been too much of an annoyance. Because his Loki’d lung had been determined to repeatedly collapse when he was in his coma, the Cleveland Clinic doctors wouldn’t clear Phil for flight, so Tony had arranged a transport ambulance. 

“I feel for Agent Coulson,” Thor said. “It is difficult to experience a long journey when one is injured.”

“Well, hopefully Sophia made it a little better,” Tony said. All credit for the now live-in nurse went to JARVIS, who was able to find several candidates who had worked for injured spies, diplomats, and politicians before. Then JARVIS had run an algorithm to determine which one might be best suited to the Avengers, and Sophia Perry had arrived to interview with Tony and Bruce - because Bruce was better at people than Tony. Sophia was average height, but curvy, and it was immediately clear that she possessed a good sense of humor and the ability to not take any shit from anyone. After she thwarted all of Bruce’s efforts at trolling it was clear she was perfect for the job.

“Sophia?” Clint asked. 

_New nurse,_ Tony signed, and Clint shook his head at him. Tony was never going to admit it, but if Clint was hearing impaired they should all at least know the basics in case something happened. It was a very Steve thing to think, so Tony just insisted he was learning ASL for the reasons everyone thought he was - so that the spies wouldn’t have their own secret code. It was slow going, and a little annoying, especially because Bruce was better at it than he was. He had even been accepted into Natasha and Clint’s little club when he invented his own sign for The Hulk - a palm faced the other person, and then the fingers splayed apart and wiggled before forming into a smashing fist. 

Then the elevator door opened, and Sophia, Coulson - in a wheelchair -and Dr. McKinney entered. The doctor had previously been held captive by HYDRA, and was completely nonplussed by alien technology wounds. He’d already met the team, having come over to ensure that Phil’s room had everything he would need.

“Welcome, Son of Coul!” Thor boomed. They all smiled at Phil, who looked a little worn and possibly weepy, though no one was going to hold it against him. Probably the drugs, anyway.

 _Well done, Stark,_ Clint signed back as Sophia smiled at all of them, her hands on Phil’s wheelchair. Natasha flashed something at Clint that indicated she saw exactly what he signed, and Clint gave her one of those shit-eating shrugs of his.

“Nurse Perry-” Tony began.

“Sophia,” she protested. “We talked about this!” 

“Sophia, this is Bruce - wave, Bruce, be friendly, she’s our roommate, now, too - Thor-”

“Hello, good healer,” Thor said, blatantly looking at her breasts. 

“Clint, Natasha, and Steve.” Sophia smiled at all of them, particularly Steve - although most people who weren’t one of the appropriate pure numbers on the Kinsey scale smiled at Steve like that.

“How are you doing, Agent? Tired? Or...Clint has volunteered to make waffles.” Tony wasn’t sure what the archer put in them, but they were perfect. They were going to ensure he had to buy new pants - even with the caloric burn from all of the sex. 

“Regular waffles, or the Belgian ones?” Coulson asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Really, Phil?” Clint asked. “What do you think of me?” 

“Waffles,” said Coulson.

“To the kitchen!” said Tony, and he led the way - even if it wasn’t his waffle maker, it was his tower.

Once there, Coulson was pushed to the table, and Sophia and Dr. McKinney went off to go and get things ready in his room. “Soo...” Tony said. “I hope that Sophia meets with your high standards of-”

“What kind of disclosure and sexual harassment agreement did you convince her to sign, Stark?” Coulson asked, and Tony took that as a yes. 

Clint moved to go and make the waffles, but Tony held his hand up. Natasha groaned, and Tony gave her a little bit of a glare. “Before we eat, Bruce and I have something for you, Clint.” When they’d got back to New York Clint was finally able to get his hearing aids from SHIELD, but Tony had no doubt that the ones he and Bruce had invented, patent pending - or, at least, Tony’s onsite patent lawyer assured him he was working on it - were better.

Bruce quickly handed Clint the box, a little awkward. Clint opened it and smiled at the two of them. “Oh. I didn’t think-”

“We told you we were going to,” Tony said.

“Yeah, but then...shit happened?” Clint managed. “Why are there two pairs?”

“The first pair is domestic - fairly similar to the SHIELD ones but better shaped for your ear canal and they’ll give you a better balance of the sounds you’re likely to encounter, day-to-day - and yes, we factored in Thor’s lack of an indoor voice-”

“I cannot help I was trained to speak in the large halls of Asgard,” Thor protested.

“The others are for missions. They’ll wire into whatever comm system you’re using as well as JARVIS and you can manipulate that by just touching right outside the ear canal opening,” Tony finished.

“That’s...thanks, guys,” Clint said. He quirked a smile at them and looked a little embarrassed, and before he could go pink or red he turned away and reached into the stove for the waffle batter. 

Bruce, who was seated, reached and squeezed Tony’s hand. He couldn’t help but look around the kitchen and smile - sure, in another five or ten minutes some disagreement would pop up and it was probable he might fantasize about throwing someone out a window, but...for now, all was well. Coulson was alive and they’d hired him a qualified, sexy nurse, they’d bonded, they’d grown, and he’d finally got to kiss the very desirable Dr. Bruce Banner. If someone had presented him with this tableau that night Coulson turned up and told him he had to join the Initiative, he would have laughed, possibly even done a spit take. 

That was as far as he was going to go, though - the emotional bullshit was better left for someone else.

**Author's Note:**

> _Generally, thanks to everyone for reading and your thoughtful comments along the way...this one is a bit of a beast in terms of length, I know, so I really appreciate it!_
> 
> 1- I suffer from hearing loss, though not the same as Clint is depicted having here. For me, if there are several sounds going on at once - television, people talking, dogs barking - I am unable to really distinguish them and especially to hear what people are saying. A lot of times, people sound like they are mumbling when there is any background noise. So, while I've referenced some of my frustrations, I apologize if it's not the same. I also do not know ASL, though I read about it before writing this. It seemed to me that, for narration's sake, it would be best to convey what Clint/Natasha are signing to one another as I would normally write dialogue rather than attempting to gloss or translate ASL and make a big f***-up of it. I hope this doesn't offend anyone.
> 
> 2- For the following prompt on the Avengers Kink Meme:  
>  _With all the Avengers present, Bruce glances at Clint he sees blood trickling from his right ear and quickly says something. Clint ignores him and someone else on the team takes offense thinking Clint is just being a jerk to Bruce._
> 
> _Until they notice that Clint is ignoring mostly every sound._
> 
>   _That's when Natasha notices and purposely walks over to Clint and touches his arm. After a small jolt, Clint smiles, blushes, and softly says,_  
>  "Sorry, didn't hear you. My new aids from SHIELD aren't fitted yet so I took them out." Shrugs self-consciously. 
> 
>   _As Clint's ear gets cleaned up Tony and Bruce rapidly talk about new developments for better and sleeker hearing aid designs. (Bonus if Clint is trying to read their lips or Natasha is signing what they are saying)._
> 
>   _I just want some incredibly accepting and helpful team members and anything else you want to toss in!_


End file.
